


Namesake

by abib918



Series: After Watchmen [3]
Category: Watchmen (Comic)
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, M/M, Multi, ghost!! ghost!! ghost!! .?, same childrens from my last fic!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abib918/pseuds/abib918
Summary: Charlie Kovacs knew her name was from someone important to Daddy. She wonders if the weird ghost-man in the fatigues knows who he is.
Relationships: Dan Dreiberg/Laurie Juspeczyk/Rorschach
Series: After Watchmen [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760107
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

Charlie knew she was named after someone big and important. Daddy had told her before. It changed slightly every time, though. Just enough to keep her interested. The man she was named after was named Charles, with people calling him Charlie. She pointed out, as her kindergarten teacher had taught her, that they had the same number of letters. Daddy smiled briefly, and nodded. She asked why he had a nickname if it was just the same number of letters, and he'd shrugged, saying simply, "Don't know. Maybe if you find him, you can ask him." 

That's right. Daddy had never really known his daddy. All he had was guesses. He was good at making guesses. She'd tried to imagine him as Daddy described him: a war hero, fighting the bad guys across the ocean. Or a government official, with a neatly pressed suit and a too-white smile, saying things she didn't understand. Or maybe he was more like Daddy. Just... normal. Maybe soft like Dad, strong like Mom. All the different scenarios ran through her head, and it excited her. Almost too much. She'd ask Daddy over and over if he knew anymore, but the name and the ideas were it. Nothing more. 

But kindergarten wasn't the kind of place you found out information about lost family, was it? 

In kindergarten, at the school around the bend, her teacher read them stories, and gave them snacks, and taught them how to add and subtract. She taught them how to read and recite the alphabet. Nothing about where to start looking at your family history. 

It drove her crazy. And it wasn't like her dumb five year old brother, Mason, could understand. He just knew that he was getting ideas about the world and would be joining his big sister in school next year. So maybe it wasn't surprising when she began to see... him. 

A strange man, dressed in an equally strange uniform. It looked like the classic pictures of army men that she had sometimes seen. He was always smoking a cigarette. He had eyes like Daddy, and a yellowed smile. She tried to talk to him, but he never talked back, and he always had this ghostly aura about him. But he was very real, to her. She could never touch him, though. Charlie brought him up one night at the dinner table. 

"I made a friend today!" she proclaimed. 

Daddy looked over, with tired, but interested eyes, speaking in his gravelly, low tone, "You did?" 

"Mhm!" She shoveled a forkful of food into her mouth, prompting Dad to remind her to swallow before speaking, "Sorry, Dad."

Mom looked over, interested in this new friend, "What's their name, Charlie? Are they in your class?"

Well, now she was stuck. She didn't know her new friend's name, did she? He'd never said anything about himself, or... anything at all, really. "They... they didn't tell me their name. I just know we're friends now." 

"Well, Charlie," Mom smiled, "Knowing someone's name is an important part of being friends. They know your name, right?"

"Mhm!"

"So why shouldn't you know their's?" 

An interesting thought. Daddy nodded in agreement, "Find out their name. Then you're really friends." 

Charlie's eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly. She would find out the ghost's name. One way or another. 

* * *

That night, after Daddy had left her room, leaving the door open a crack, and gone to bed himself, Charlie sat up, waiting for her parents' bedroom door to shut. Success. She looked around, waiting for the ghost man. It was late. Her eyes were barely open. But she _would_ find out his name. She waited, and waited, until the ghost man finally appeared, at the foot of her bed, smoking a Marlboro. Grandma Jupiter never smoked those. Said they were nasty. 

Charlie thought the smoke was nasty in general. Not that Grandma Jupiter would ever listen to _her._

He turned, and looked at her. She wasn't afraid at all. He turned back away only to blow smoke out of his mouth, before coughing and inhaling more. Seemed counterproductive, in her opinion. She watched, with her sleepy eyes, and asked, "What's your name, mister?"

The soldier ghost shook his head, finally speaking in a gravelly voice like Daddy's, "What's it t' you?" 

"I dunno. You seem pretty interesting." 

"Not really," he turned away and exhaled again, dropping the ghost cigarette and extinguishing it, "Jus' a soldier. Nothin' much t' me." 

"But you have a name, right?" She asked again.

He grinned, "Yeah. I have one. So do you. Does it matter? No." Charlie grimaced as the ghost-man laughed. He had a quiet, raspy, laugh. Like Daddy. His smile was crooked, "Tell ya what, kid. You like a good mystery, right?" She nodded eagerly, and he continued, "Well, this is yer mystery, right here. Find out my name. It shouldn't be hard."

Charlie sat there a moment, before speaking slowly, "But... if I don't know who you are... where do I start?"

"Well," the soldier put a hand on his knee, "That's the thing. I'll be givin' ya my own little hints. You-" he poked her on the nose with a spectral finger, "-just gotta figure out the rest." Charlie nodded, and the soldier laughed and vanished, leaving her in her bedroom, her brother fast asleep in the other bed. He'd be giving her hints? Fun! A new game! She liked games! It all started tomorrow, she guessed. So, she laid back down, and dreamed of men in army fatigues and Marlboro cigarettes, laughing their raspy laughs. 


	2. Chapter 2

It'd been a week and still no breakthroughs on the man in the fatigues. He'd given her hints that she didn't understand, and Daddy still had no more answers then he did before. It was infuriating, and she didn't even know that word existed yet. She dug and dug through the books her parents kept in the house, and yet... nothing. It seemed all traces of this man were simply gone forever. That day in school, the teacher instructed her and her classmates to draw out a dream they had. This was her chance. 

Taking what memories she had of the night before, she drew, if a bit crudely, what she had seen: the man in the uniform at the end of her bed, smoking a cigarette. Her teacher took one look at it, stared at Charlie, who was grinning, with wide eyes, and called her parents. She explained the drawing to Daddy as Charlie sat next to him, little sneakers kicking at the air. Daddy gave her a few concerned looks, but took the drawing and put it in his jacket. Where in the jacket he put it, Charlie wasn't sure. 

He took her by the hand as they left the school, and began their walk back home, "Charlie, have you been okay, lately?"

"I'm fine, Daddy. Why?"

"Your teacher seemed concerned."

"Why?"

Walter stared up at the sky. It was why time, wasn't it? They played this game a lot, and he was the most seasoned expert of the three of her parents, "Because kids don't usually draw army men smoking cigarettes." 

"But that was what I dreamed about!" Charlie stopped dead and looked up at Daddy, "Do... do you not believe me?"

Oh, no. She was giving him the sad eyes. Walter sighed, and crouched down to look his daughter in the eyes, "I believe you. But need to know if something's going on." 

"I mean..." Charlie looked down at the pavement, "I've been seeing this man at the end of my bed. He's like... a ghost, Daddy. I wanna know who he is!" 

Walter stared at her quizzically for a moment, before deciding something, lifting his daughter up again, "Maybe you'll find out more tonight. But, don't draw that at school. Seems strange. Draw something else. A different dream." his daughter nodded in understanding, before letting her father carry her home, only returning to walking when his arms got tired right outside the neighbor's house. They had a big dog- a Doberman- that Daddy didn't seem to like. But that was okay. Charlie would like them for him. She waved to the big dog who barked with the force of thunder at them, the owner waving right back as he came out to investigate. Walter gave a curt nod, but nothing beyond that. 

Maybe one day he wouldn't be afraid anymore. The only dog he didn't seem to mind was Phantom, Grandpa Hollis' dog. She thought it was because Phantom was old and didn't bark as loud. It made sense, in her head. Maybe tonight would make sense too.

Hopefully the man in the fatigues was willing to make sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Hollis is alive and you can fight me on that.
> 
> Also, a bit of a short chapter, but the next one's gonna be fun.


	3. Chapter 3

Charlie waited awake again, rubbing her sleepy amber eyes, looking around, waiting for the man in fatigues. He appeared shortly after, lighting a Marlboro before looking at her. "How're ya doin', kid?" When she shrugged, he took out the cig after taking a drag, "What's gotcha down?"

"Nothing you've said makes sense!" she whisper-yelled, exasperated, "An' I can't find anything. Nobody listens." 

The soldier man paused for a moment, looking over the kid in front of him, taking another drag before asking: "How... old are ya?" 

"I'm _six."_ Charlie's face dropped to an expression not unlike her father's resting face. Purely apathetic. 

The man's eyes widened, and he took a long drag, long enough to cause him to cough up phantom smoke. Surprised by the information just given, he dropped the ghost cigarette and turned back to Charlie. "Well... _shit._ Sorry, kid. Didn't quite realize ya were _that_ young. Thought you were older-" he paused, thinking, speaking again, "Yer... yer name's... Charlie.. innit?" The little girl nodded, and the room fell into a surprised hush for a moment. Another cigarette was drawn out of a box, lit, and smoked. He spoke gently, "Huh. That's... that's my name..." 

The little Charlie's eyes widened. Was this...? Wait. Daddy's daddy's name was Charlie. He'd never met his daddy... was this ghost... _him?_ She didn't get a chance to ask, as the ghost started talking again. "Wait a minute-" he squinted at the little kid, running a hand through his hair, "Your... holy _shit._ That ain't right- that ain't right at all-" he shook his head, eyes still wide in disbelief, "Have yer parents ever mentioned someone named Sylvia?" 

_Sylvia._ The name popped up once in a while. That was Daddy's mom, she remembered. He didn't like her very much. "Yeah...? That's my daddy's mom." She hoped that meant she was getting answers now. She was practically _dying_ for them, now. 

Charlie the soldier sat back against the wall, somehow, for a moment, just staring into space. Charlie the kid watched him, practically holding her breath. What was happening? Did something- "You're my fuckin' grandkid. _Holy shit."_ he spoke. So this _was_ Daddy's daddy! She was about to exclaim in delight, before the older man shushed her, "Listen, kid, Charlie, whatever. Does... does yer daddy know anything about me? At all?" She shook her head and he sighed, "I wanna see 'im. You hear me? I wanna see my son. Never got to. Can you do that for me? Make him see me?"

Well, she'd failed at the last task, which got her here, so... she wasn't all too sure at this point. "...Maybe. I'm not so sure, mister." 

"First: don't call me mister." he puffed his cig, "Call me _Charles_ , if ya have to. Actually that might be good. Distinguish between you and me, yeah?" Charlie nodded, and Charles continued, "Ok. Second: just, get him to come in here another day. Okay? Get him to stay here long enough to see me." He tossed out his cigarette, it disappearing as it hit the floor, before looking over at the form of Mason, speaking softly, "Is he your brother?" 

Charlie nodded, "That's Mason. He's five. Kinda dumb."

"Hey, now." Charles snickered, "That's not very nice to say about yer brother." Charlie just shrugged, smiling brightly. She joked, of course. She loved her stupid little brother. Even if he did annoy her. Charles smiled at his granddaughter. "Alright. I'm out, kid. See ya."

"Bye, grandpa!" Charlie whispered to the ghost-man, who startled before disappearing, still smiling. He could count on this kid. He was sure of it. He was finally gonna meet his son. _Finally._ Charlie, on the other hand, laid back down, tired beyond belief. Tomorrow was the day. He was gonna make Daddy meet his Daddy, whether he liked it or not. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was bedtime again. Daddy carried Charlie upstairs as she yawned, laying her head on her father's shoulder. Dad carried Mason, and Mom followed, saying goodnight to both of them before leaving quietly. Dad followed soon after, giving Daddy a quick kiss ( much to the disgust of his daughter ), and turning out the light. Daddy stuck behind, though, sitting at the end of his daughter's bed. "Ok. What do you want me to see?" Charlie just sat and waited, her father staring quizzically, doing the same. "...Charlie." 

"Daddy?"

"What do you want me to see?" Walter looked around, seeing only his daughter, looking intently behind him, and his sleeping son. Charlie pointed behind him, waving at something. He turned, and near felt his soul leave his body. Was that... a _ghost?_ A spirit? An actual dead person, wandering the earth in spectral form? Walter had seen some strange things, but this about took the cake. And it seems Charlie's drawing was fairly accurate: it was a man in army fatigues, smoking a cigarette. He puffed for a moment, before removing it from his mouth and looking up to see Charlie and Walter. 

He smiled at Charlie, giving a wave and smile, before turning to Walter and eyes widening. A smile cracked on his face. His eyes got soft. "Holy _shit,_ you look like me." 

Walter paused in stunned silence. Was this ghost... no. Wait. Stop. This couldn't be real. It- It couldn't be _him._ He was supposed to be alive, shaking hands with high society. But, here he was. A ghost. Gone. He swallowed. Hard. "...dad..?"

Charlie just watched with a bright grin as Daddy's eyes watered and Charles began to laugh his raspy laugh, "Yeah, Daddy! It's your daddy! He said so!" 

And there went the waterworks, spilling out hot and fast as Walter, for the first time in a while, broke down, Charles watching over him, helpless to do anything. This was his son. Finally. After fifty two years. He reached out a ghostly hand and patted Walter's shoulder awkwardly, trying to be comforting. It hardly seemed to help, but Charlie got the hint, and pressed herself into her father's chest. It was okay. She was here. Walter hugged her tight, before pulling himself together and looking back at his father. He did look like him, didn't he? The tired eyes, the freckles, and, from what he knew, the hair. It was all there. He thanked whatever higher power that he ended up looking more like him then his mother. A quick wipe of his eyes, "Didn't... expect this." 

"I didn't either, but here we fuckin' are, kid." Charles laughed to himself. 

Walter nodded, "So... you're my father?"

"God, I hope so." the ghost puffed his cigarette again, "I didn't spend these last few days gettin' here just for nothin'. Name's Charlie. Short for Charles-"

"-Even though they have the same number of letters." Walter finished. 

Charles nodded, "So you noticed, huh?" When his son nodded, he smiled, and continued, "Well. 'm guessin' yer kid here needs sleep so... I'll leave you to that. Charmed you named her after me, by the way. Real slick."

"Couldn't think of anything else-" Walter stuttered out, "Always wanted to see you." he thought for a moment, pausing, "What... were you? Before you... obviously..." he trailed off. 

"Before I kicked it?" Charles spat out, startling his son, and he let out a hoarse laugh, "I'm just messin' wit' ya. I was a soldier over in Europe. You remember that war? Or are you too young?"

Walter shook his head, trying hard to remember, "Too young. Was five when it ended. Don't remember much." 

"Fair enough, kid. I'll let ya sleep now." 

"You do the same." 

"Nah. I wanna see where she goes." the soldier pointed to Charlie, "Maybe she won't end up half as ugly as me and you." 

"Hope not." his son ruffled his daughter's hair. Yeah. She'd be ok. 

And with that, the former mask said one thing to his father, "Happy Father's day, dad." 

"Happy Father's day, Walter. You better be better then me." And with that, Charlie was gone. Well, not gone. His namesake lived on, asleep in her father's arms, dreaming of army men smoking their Marlboro cigarettes again. And that was okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, but here's the end. Happy Father's Day, y'all. I hope you enjoyed this fic. ♥


End file.
